


Wild Horses

by meirenyu



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Arguing, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Hand Jobs, Hate Sex, Horseback Riding, Insults, Link is uptight, M/M, Rhett's a sexy jerk, Sexual Tension, Subtle Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-06 00:23:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11589210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meirenyu/pseuds/meirenyu
Summary: When Link's life kind of crumbles following his divorce, his boss at IBM sends him to a dude ranch in West Texas where he meets a tall, arrogant, hazel-eyed, absolute jerk of a ranch hand who just can't seem to stop smirking and laughing at him.





	1. City Slicker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can all blame [@linkslipssinkships](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinksLipsSinkShips/) for this.

All things considered, he felt _good_.

The sun was setting behind the towering, craggy mesas rising up high to his left hand side as his sexy little rented Audi hugged the long and yielding curves of the desert highway unfolding before him, all lit in pinks and oranges in the fading summer afternoon. The sun glinted off his glasses, and he squinted, sure it made him look just like Clint Eastwood. The state trooper that had passed him fifty miles back had tipped his cowboy hat and chugged along, and he took it as a sign that he was exactly where he needed to be at exactly the right moment.

Yeah, the airport hadn’t had a convertible on hand, and yeah, his life had crumbled to fucking bits in the six months since Christy had walked out the door, bags in hand and not a single tear in her eyes, but dammit, right now? Right now, he felt good. Like a solid, real person should, Waylon blaring through the speakers and the hot West Texas wind whipping through his tall, wild, black hair. _Goddamn_ , he felt good.

For the umpteenth time, he thanked his lucky stars for that meeting two weeks ago in his boss’ cramped office, in which the gray-haired man had assured him that IBM would gladly fund Link a weekend dalliance on the side of nature and good, old-fashioned Americana if it meant that he’d come to them on Monday right back at the top of his game, the hollowness gone from his sad, sad eyes and the energetic pep back in his step that his coworkers had come to expect from him. After all, the squinty-eyed middle manager had avowed, they owed it to Link for his many years of reliable service. 

His heart nearly sang when he finally turned down the long, sparse driveway that led to the pastoral and, if he allowed himself such whimsy, majestic ranch that spanned the tumbling hills before him. This weekend was going to be for him and him alone. Long had he yearned to return to some semblance of his rural roots, to feel the hot sun on his pale brow as he threw himself headlong into the riches of the earth and toils of a day well-spent on horseback.

He choked on the insult of the tall, painted sign that read “Pecos Dude Ranch.” Dude ranches were for ignorant northerners who’d never traipsed south of the Mason-Dixon until they took a wild hare to try out “rustic living.” He rolled his eyes. This was West Texas, and though he’d never stepped foot further west than Alabama before, he just knew this was the place for him. As he finally came to a halt on the red gravel at the door step of the big house, he forcefully purged the slur _resort_ from his vocabulary.

He was home. He was Southern down to his very bones, and he was home.

He ground his teeth in dire irritation when he tugged and tugged on his suitcase, but it just wouldn’t budge from the trunk of the shiny, silver Audi. Cursing under his breath, a string of _gosh_ es and _dangit_ s, he yanked and strained, but he had to admit that he’d over-prepared and packed a damn near steam trunk’s worth of jeans and neatly-tooled, brand new cowboy boots.

“Havin’ some trouble there, city boy?” Came a deep, honey-sweet southern drawl from the beat up old Ford pickup that had slowly crunched to a halt next to him. He glared up at the man in the driver’s seat, and when the lean, blond, bearded man dropped out of the cabin, Link couldn’t help but notice just how damn _tall_ he was in his faded Wranglers and worn boots. He glanced down at his own pressed work slacks and loafers, conscious of his own clean shaved face, and he suddenly felt his first inkling of reservations, of maybe just how much he didn’t belong in this scrubby, still terrain.

The tall man slammed the heavy door behind him and strode over to the gaping trunk of Link’s European luxury car, with a gait not far from a swagger, and Link realized he’d not felt this small in a long time. The man was backlit by disappearing sunset, but Link could just make out the curl of lip that could be described as nothing other than a smirk. An ugly little pilot light flickered to life in Link’s belly. Who was this jerk to mock him before they’d even exchanged hellos?

“Scooch over,” the cowboy said, shifting a huge coil of heavy jute rope onto one side, freeing up one impossibly long arm. The self-assured command of his tone briefly brought Link away from himself, and he stepped aside. With one strong arm, the stranger yanked the suitcase free of the trunk and almost effortlessly set it to rest on the gravel between the two of them.

Link flushed with hot embarrassment, and he mumbled, “It was caught on something.” The long, tall stranger sighed an indulgent laugh.

“‘Course it was,” he drawled, but the indulgent facade of understanding in his words only made Link appreciate the man a little less. The man grabbed the handle of the bag and began to tug it towards the grand front doors of the big house. He turned to look back at Link. “You comin’, city boy? Gotta getcha checked in.” Link stumbled behind the man, red-faced and nearly spitting with umbrage.

As he followed the stranger through the wide-open doors, he almost forgot his embarrassment for a solid minute as he drank in the heart-wrenching homeyness of the high, vaulted ceilings of the lodge, all open air and hand-carved wooden details. He thought he’d love to waste an afternoon reading a book in the sitting area off to the far right, its squashy chairs and huge hearth (though useless in the summer) oozing with the kind of hospitality and Southern charm he so dearly longed for. The high windows were propped open, letting in the relatively cool, damp evening breeze that seemed to wash over the whole place like a favored childhood blanket. 

The smirking, arrogant stranger be damned, Link was _home_.

“Heads up, Jen,” the blond man called. “Fresh meat!” He stood Link’s suitcase in front of a neat reception desk directly opposite the wide entrance. Through a doorway off to the side, Link could hear a rustling and an exasperated sigh.

“Yeah, alright!” Came a woman’s harried voice. Moments later, a short woman with strong arms and a no-nonsense face rushed through a door carrying a stack of packages and letters. The tall man quirked an eyebrow. “Jen, I thought Thursdays meant mail.” She grimaced, plunking the stack down on the reception desk.

“Yeah, well,” she grumbled, unamused, “Jim Bob was late delivering the week’s load, and now I’ve got Stevie breathing down my neck to get it sorted ASAP.” Jen looked over at Link after a moment, as though just realizing he was there. She forced her fixed glower into a courteous smile and said brightly, “Mr. Neal? We were expecting you a lot earlier.”

Link hurried up to the desk, conscious of the tall stranger, even more thrown off his usually steady footing as the soft lights revealed a pair of hazel eyes that made the man look more inviting than he had any right to. The jerk. “You can call me Link.” He managed to focus on the now kind-faced woman and apologized, “I got lost.” Link almost wheeled around and decked the man when he heard him scoff, but the man had already loped away towards the exit at the back of the cavernous foyer without a word.

“That’s no problem at all, sir. Most guests do get lost. Not used to country roads, you know.” The woman called Jen set about typing away at the computer hidden behind an arrangement of succulents on the reception counter. “We’ve already got your information, so if you’ll just follow Chase here-” She gestured to a pleasantly smiley young man who had silently appeared behind Link.

“Oh, uh-” Link stammered as Chase reached for Link’s suitcase.

“This way, Mr. Neal,” Chase said softly, his dreamy smile clearly aimed at something within. It immediately set Link at ease.

“It’s Link,” he absently corrected, following Chase down a long corridor lined sparsely with closed doors to one side and big windows to the other. Link squinted out the windows, hoping to drink in some of that blessed West Texas landscape, but the sun had already set behind the hills, and the only sight that met him was his squinting reflection.

Chase eventually stopped at a door at the end of the wooden corridor, pulling a heavy ring of keys from his pocket. “Here you are, Mr. Neal,” he said kindly, wiggling the key free from the ring and plopping it into Link’s outstretched hand, and as he pushed the door open and ushered Link inside, he said gravely, “Don’t lose that. It’s a pain in the hind end making another copy.” He set the suitcase at the foot of the wide, deep bed and turned to Link with a smile. “You’re lucky, you know. You made it in time for dinner,” he stated matter-of-factly. “We dine family-style and, I gotta say, Micah’s a great cook. You eat meat, right?”

“Of course,” Link said defensively.

“Great,” Chase gushed. “We get a lot of… _Californians_ here, and you know…” He trailed off, but Link knew what he meant. He wasn’t some fussy _vegetarian_ , for goodness sake. Even if that asshole from before thought he was some trifling city boy, Link would be damned before he stuck to eating only rabbit food for the rest of his life. As Chase turned to leave, Link cleared his throat, kind of scratching around for what he actually wanted to say.

“That, uh…” He began, grabbing the back of his neck with a tense palm. “That guy from before… That really tall guy? Is he gonna be at dinner, too?” His stomach did a flip at the dreaded thought of having to sit down to a meal across from the man’s unending smirking and scoffing. 

“Who, Rhett?” Chase asked with a scrunched forehead. Rhett? _Of course_ , his name was Rhett. How could it be anything else but gosh darned _Rhett_? “He’s… he’s a bit of a lone wolf. He never eats with us.” Link swallowed some bitter kind of feeling, but he was vehemently glad that _Rhett_ wouldn’t be looming over dinner ruining his good time. “Anyway, wifi info’s on that desk over there, and meal’s in half an hour. See you then.”

 

Dinner passed pleasantly enough. Micah had proudly placed several heavy trays of some of the best damn cooking Link had eaten since he lived with his mama, and he ate until his belly was tight, content then to sit back and listen to the happy back-and-forth between the ranch hands and the guests who’d been on the grounds for a couple weeks longer than him. Without much prodding, he’d admit that Chase's calling the meal “family-style” had been right on the mark, as he laughed along as the stories of goofy antics from the handful of guests (so out of their element) came pouring forth as heavily as the home brewed beer (Micah’s own handicraft). 

If Link had knocked back maybe another pint or two, he’d really be ready to sleep, but he was suddenly filled with the urge to wander around the grounds for a while before depositing himself into his welcoming, waiting bed.

As he passed the threshold of the grand big house of the ranch, he briefly thought he should have grabbed a light jacket, surprised that the absence of sunlight had left the countryside so chilly. By the light of his cellphone (otherwise useless in this Bermuda Triangle of lost cell-reception), he navigated a well-worn path from the big house out to a rather massive barn, the paint stripped by years of weather and a certain lack of regard for superficial gloss. The double doors were propped open a bit, and a glowing, yellow light poured forth onto the walkway as Link sidled into the hazy warmth inside.

The decidedly pleasant aroma of hay and horse dung hit his senses first as he ambled inside, heart soaring at the sight of lovingly maintained horse stalls, and within each stood all manner of handsome stallions and mares and foals of every possible breed and hue, quiet now in the calm that came just before sleep. _Oh, God_ , Link was at home. He was overwhelmed for a moment, nearly taken by surprise by the soft, tender strains of guitar lilting over the cloying air. He followed the glittering tune until he nearly reached its source. He froze stock still at the sight of the man, of Rhett, seated cross legged before an open stall gate, guitar in hand, singing to a tiny little runt of a foal that rested on its side, one laconic eye gazing up at the rhapsodic troubadour.

His rich, deep voiced lifted up gently over the guitar twang, and Link could just make out the sweet melody he sang, something like “Who’s a lovely little horse? It’s you, my baby.” And the corner of Link’s mouth lifted at the sentiment. “Baby’s gonna grow real strong.” Link’s whole face lit up with a smile, in spite of himself. “Gotta drink your milk and get your rest, and Baby, before long…”

But the song was calamitously interrupted when Link leaned against what he thought was a rather sturdy barrel. As it came crashing down to earth, spilling heaps of slop all over the tidy walkway, Rhett jerked around, kind of looking guilty and definitely shaking with alarmed fury. His eyes narrowed on Link fumbling like an idiot at the end of the path, fruitlessly trying to stymy the growing mess he was making. Link looked up in panic, locking eyes with Rhett as the man shoved aside his guitar in poorly contained outrage as he gently shut the little pony’s stall gate.

“Just what the hell d’ya think you’re doin’?” He hissed, crossing his arms against his chest as he rose to his full, formidable height. His cheeks were tinged a little pink beneath his scruffy beard, and his lips were pursed tight. His eyes flashed dangerously in the dim light. Link finally managed to haul the barrel upright, but honestly, it was too little, too late. The dreamlike haze in the barn was now marred by the restless pawing and whining of the horses he’d inadvertently roused from near-sleep.

“Just… just listening!” He stuttered.

“Didn’t your mama raise you not to eavesdrop?” Rhett growled. “Or don’t they teach you manners in New York City or wherever the _hell_ it is you’re from?” His pilot light of dislike for Rhett burst into flame, and Link very nearly gave the huge guy a piece of his mind. At the last second, he decided against it, opting instead to just stand their wordless and sputtering. “You’re scarin’ the horses, city slicker. Go on, now,” he spat. “Git!”

Swallowing his pride and any explanations for his actions, Link turned on his heel and marched out of the barn, into the cool night air. He cursed the soft burning in his eyes and swallowed down the lump of humiliation as he nearly tripped through the hallway to his room for the weekend. The key slightly caught in the doorknob, but he shook it loose eventually and stumbled into his room as the burning in his eyes turned into a hateful dampness that he refused to acknowledge.

Furious and mortified, he kicked off his shoes, yanked off his clothes, and fell into bed, dreading the coming morning and praying he’d avoid that absolute and complete asshole for the rest of his stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on tumblr [here](Http://mei-ren-yu.tumblr.com).


	2. Both Desperate and Desperado

It was with a brief kick of panic that Link woke the next morning, all tangled in sheets and damp with sweat in his unfamiliar bed. The early morning sunlight drifted in cheerily through the windows at the far end of the room, and Link snuggled down for a few more moments just appreciating the vista of rolling hills that lay outside. For the first time in years, the anticipation worming through him was of joie de vivre instead of dread.

His stomach grumbled, and he unwound himself from his bed and yanked on some tight, dark jeans from his suitcase, which now sat in the middle of the room with its innards spilling all over the floor. He saw a brief flash of Christy standing in their bedroom, livid that he’d left yet another pair of dirty socks lying bundled up on the floor. Well, Christy wasn’t here to mother him anymore, he thought bitterly, but just as quickly as that pang of spite had reared its ugly head, it was gone. He sighed deeply, his shoulders going slack. He needed to eat.

Breakfast had been criminally good, and Link had enthusiastically had his fill of crisp bacon, spiced home fries, fried eggs, and the best danged buttermilk biscuits he’d had in god-knew-when. The tureen of gravy in the center of the table had been completely drained empty long before the other few guests and ranch hands had finished eating. The piping hot, strong black coffee that came served to them in big earthenware mugs was just icing on the cake, really. 

The meal had been mostly silent as the group all tucked in, but Link declared that Micah should be sainted, and that had gotten a blushing _thanks_ from the cook himself and a chuckle from the middle-aged couple sitting across from him. The woman gave a Link a long, appreciative stare, and he swallowed his coffee fast, excusing himself from the table to get ready for their morning horseback activity.

 

Chase had led their group (four older couples, three friends on vacation together, the middle-aged couple, and Link) out to the stables at the end of the red dirt path that led from the back porch of the ranch house. Several horses already stood saddled and bridled and tethered to the posts of the stable’s fence. As the group congregated in their jeans and boots, Link took a deep breath of the cool, damp morning air. His zest was short lived, however. 

“Alright, y’all, saddle up!” Came Rhett’s deep voice from behind as he strode from the stable, so tall and lean and impressive (especially with the crisp, tan cowboy hat he wore atop his head), and immediately, Link’s guts knotted with apprehension. Why hadn’t he thought of the possibility that the _main stable hand_ would be the one to take them riding? And why hadn’t he thought to buy a hat before he came on this trip? He took a shaky breath and prayed his face wasn’t flushed with leftover embarrassment from the night before. Rhett began helping one of the older women up onto the small chestnut pony he’d prepared for her.

Watching his fellow guests mount their horses, Link began to panic. They all knew how to ride. Of course, they did. They’d been staying at the ranch for god only knew how long. He suddenly felt terribly out of his element, and when Rhett practically sauntered over all cocky and smug, his tight Wranglers clinging low on his hips, Link thought he might be better off faking sick for the morning. Rhett didn’t look at him, busying himself with gathering the reins of the horse that was reserved for Link, who stammered, “I, uh… I don’t-”

“Grab the pommel,” Rhett said coolly. He pointed to a handle jutting from the apex of the saddle. “That thing right there. No, use your other hand.” Link quickly switched hands and reached for the pommel. “Foot in the stirrup.” Link planted his foot promptly into the stirrup and made to pull himself up, but Rhett just laughed, reaching for Link’s trim waist to stop him from rising. “Woah, there, cowboy. You use that foot, you’ll be facing south on a north-bound horse.”

“Oh, right,” Link mumbled, red faced, and something about Rhett’s laugh seized something in his chest good and tight. He slipped his other foot into the stirrup, well aware that the other riders were waiting for him, now that Chase had taken over helping out the other guests and had mounted his own horse. Link tried with his entire body to ignore the firm, warm grip on his waist as Rhett helped lift him up to a sitting position atop the horse. He looked down at Rhett for a nod of approval, but what he received instead was a strange, deep, scrutinizing gaze from those intense hazel eyes. Link swallowed hard and glanced down at Rhett’s lingering fingers, which Rhett abruptly withdrew as he turned away.

“Chase, you can help out Mr. Neal,” he ordered, gracefully slinging his long body up onto his own massive stallion. “I’ll lead the group.” Chase just smiled and directed his horse in a slow saunter over to Link.

“We’re going out to the river today,” Chase said with a soft and reassuring smile, reaching out for Link’s reins. “We’ll be going slow enough, so you just hang onto the pommel and hold onto Betty with your legs. Betty here is real calm, so you shouldn’t have anything to worry about.” Link nodded, now dry of mouth, as he allowed Chase to lead Betty and him behind the rest of the group. Rhett’s broad shoulders and tall hat cut quite an image in the golden morning light up ahead of them all.

 

They must have been plodding along for nearly forty five minutes, the scrubby, dry, red landscape rising all around them in breathtaking hills and mesas against such a blue, blue sky. Link felt like he was in a movie, an outlaw escaping from Johnny Law with a saddle bag full of gold he’d robbed from a train. His face wound into a dopey smile, but when he looked down to see once more that Chase still held the reins of his horse and that at least four of their group were well past retirement age, he saw himself less as desperado and more as desperate.

That was probably how Rhett saw him, at any rate. Though why Link should care was far beyond him, because Rhett wasn’t anything special either. Link spit bitterly into the red dirt. He refused to let Rhett ruin his vacation.

As luck would have it, Link didn’t need Rhett to make his vacation spiral downward. The second that calm old Betty saw the rattlesnake winding past her hooves, she reared up with a terrified whinny. Link clung to her in identical terror as she bolted, her reins whipping easily from Chase’s shocked grip. Link’s heart pounded in his ears like cannon blasts as he clung to her back with arms and legs, a high-pitched wail wheezing from his lungs.

“ _Goddamit_ ,” Rhett hissed as he jerked around to see what the commotion was. “Y’all stay here!” Without a second thought, he dug his spurs into his horse’s sides and went tearing after Link, his grip on the reins tight, his jaw tense, his thighs pumping in time with his steed’s gallop. For a few heartstopping moments, it looked like the dark-haired city boy was going to go toppling to his death, but he clung to Betty with arms and legs in a way that, had this not been a very dire situation, would have left Rhett howling with laughter.

They’d cut quite some distance around a bend and through an outcropping of rock before Rhett was finally able to close the distance between them and slip his fingers around Betty’s reins, pulling her into a gradual canter, then guiding her to stop altogether. As they slowed, Link still clung desperately to the horse, breathlessly crying, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Hey, now,” Rhett mumbled. “You’re alright.” When Link finally realized that he wasn’t rushing headlong to his own death, he lifted his head and looked up at Rhett with bleary eyes. The apples of his cheeks burned with scarlet splotches, and he quickly regained his composure, shifting back into a sitting position, yet regaining none of his dignity. He could hardly breathe. Rhett looked down at the reins he held in his hands, stewing in Link’s secondhand embarrassment. “That was, uh… That sure was some ridin’. I thought for sure you’s gonna fall off.”

Link’s chest filled with hot irritation. He’d almost _died_! And this jerk was sitting here mocking him! _The very nerve_! He began to clamber off his horse, miserably growling, “Get me off this damn horse!” He pitched forward as his boot got caught in the stirrup, and he landed hard on his knees and palms, just hard enough to really fucking sting, but not hard enough to draw blood. Swallowing down yet another minor mortification at the hands of fucking _Rhett_ , he shoved himself to his feet and marched further from the trail. Brow knit in confusion, Rhett dismounted and went loping after Link.

“Hey, what the hell?” Rhett demanded, grabbing Link by the arm. “We gotta go back to the group!” Link rounded on him, cool blue eyes flashing bright, lips twisted in rage.

“ _You_ go back!” He said, nearly spitting. “I’m walking back to the house!” He turned to storm away again, but Rhett just sighed and grabbed his arm once more.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said softly. “You’ll get lost.”

“Uh, I _think_ I can follow a trail, _Rhett_ ,” Link scoffed, rolling his eyes. Rhett just let him go when Link turned to march away again.

“Yeah?” He called after him. “Then how come you walkin’ the wrong way?” Link froze, his entire body rigid but for his teeth which ground together as he fought to calm his breathing. “Yeah, city boy, ranch is thattaways,” Rhett offered lightly, nodding in the opposite direction Link was heading.

Finally, Link rounded on him, having quite had enough of his constant secret smiles and self-indulgent jeering. “Would you _stop_ calling me that?” He marched right up to Rhett and drew himself up to his full height, which at 6’1” usually meant something, but this fucking asshole had the gall to be at least a good half a foot taller than Link. Yet another indignity. Rhett looked down at him with a soft smile and laughing eyes, so close that the smell of musk and sweat and leather washed over Link all at once. His vital organs suddenly felt bright and hollow.

“Shoot, ‘city boy?’” Rhett asked softly, his voice carried on the warm breeze. “That’s what you are, ain’t ya? A city boy?” But this time, when he said it, it didn’t sound like an insult. It sounded like an invitation, but to what, Link had no idea. He had half a mind to say yes.

“You don’t know me, _Tex_ ,” Link insisted, jabbing one finger against Rhett’s chest, the fitted chambray shirt with its pearl snaps radiating with Rhett’s heat. Link jerked his hand away. Rhett tilted his head to one side.

“How ‘bout we get to know each other a little better, then?” He offered, his eyes sparkling now with stifled laughter. Link’s mouth dropped into a surprised little _oh_ , and Rhett went to pull a canteen from his saddle bag before settling down on a long, low rock nearby. He gazed expectantly at Link before quirking one thick eyebrow. “Well? How ‘bout it, then?”

“Oh. Right,” Link mumbled and he sat down next to Rhett on the ersatz bench. Rhett untwisted the canteen before offering a sip to Link, who took the offer wholeheartedly.

“Woah, there,” Rhett said. “Save some for me.” Link gave back the canteen bashfully, and Rhett took a quick gulp before reaching back to pull a red bandana from his back pocket. He doused one corner of the cloth with water and muttered under his breath, “Hold still, city boy.” Link forgot to breath when Rhett raised the cloth to his cheek and wiped one solid line from just beneath Link’s eye down to his jaw. He repeated the movement on the other cheek.

It just hit Link what Rhett was wiping away, _tear tracks_. He wished a hole would just open up under him and drag him straight to hell. When Rhett stuffed the bandana back in his pocket, Link mumbled his thanks.

“So, what don’t I know ‘bout you, Mr. Neal?” Rhett asked, leaning back, looking down at Link with real curiosity.

“It’s Link,” he said, feeling as though he were on unsure footing, just as he always was with this infuriating man. “I mean, I don’t really know how to ans-”

“Well, you can start with what you’re doin’ here,” Rhett offered, smoothing his fallen hair out of his eyes and readjusting his hat.

“Well,” Link started, looking away in the distance just as a hawk swooped down far off in the valley. “My boss at IBM thought I could use a little break.” He could almost feel Rhett rolling his eyes when he said IBM, but he refused to rise to the provocation. “I haven’t really been myself since my wife left me.”

Rhett shifted up straight. “Your wife?” He said in a studied, neutral tone. He scratched his beard and frowned.

“Yeah,” Link said, surprised not to feel the usual lump rise in his throat that always accompanied thoughts of his ex-wife. Rhett shifted again, planting both boots firmly on the crunchy ground, leaning his forearms against his knees.

“Well, I’m real sorry to hear that,” Rhett offered, and Link almost had the impression Rhett was saying both exactly what he meant and exactly the opposite of it at the same time. “I meant it earlier, ‘bout you stayin’ on the horse. That was pretty good.”

Without thinking, Link quipped, “Well, I like being on top, so...” Realizing what he’d just let slip, he glanced awkwardly up at Rhett only to find the tall man regarding him with dark eyes.

“That so?” He asked, his voice gone as gravelly as the dirt beneath their feet. Link felt a whoosh of heat through his body now, completely independent of the sun beating down on them. He felt like a book open before Rhett’s curious eyes, and at the same time, he was sure that Rhett was also Force choking him. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but whatever it was, it left his heart pounding hard in his chest. The seconds stretched as the two regarded each other, and just when Link felt about ready to pass out, Rhett’s eyes flickered to Link’s left. Once, then twice, eyes growing wider. His voice came now high and urgent. “Link, I need you to stay calm and don’t move.”

But he might as well have begged Link to grow wings and fly to the moon for all the good it did him, because as soon as the words left Rhett’s lips, Link jerked around to find a big snake coiled next to where his hand rested on the rock. He panicked, and the snake reared back in a flash, inhumanly fast, and sank its sharp fangs into the flesh between Link’s thumb and index finger. He wailed and jerked free, and Rhett immediately kicked the snake far away with the toe of his boot. 

“Shit, boy, you okay?” Rhett asked as Link doubled over in pain, clutching his hand to his chest.

“Rhett!” Link groaned frantically. “You gotta suck the poison out!” He thrust his hand up to Rhett. The man nearly laughed.

“Are you joshin’ me?” He asked. “That wasn’t nothin’ but a little old-”

“I don’t wanna die, Rhett,” Link said hysterically. “Not here. Not in fucking _Texas_.” He pushed his hand at Rhett again. “You gotta do it, man. You gotta suck it.”

“Link, it wasn’t a-” But suddenly he paused, going silent as he grabbed Link’s wrist in his big, firm grip. “Yeah, alright, I’ll suck it.” Slowly, he pulled Link closer. Link watched him with damp blue eyes, wide with fear. Rhett parted his full, dark lips and slid the flesh of Link’s hand over his tongue. He could taste blood and dirt, and as his lips closed around Link's hand, he sucked, his tongue flickering over the shallow punctures until Link’s wide eyes flickered shut as he groaned low, sucking in a shaky breath. Long after Link’s mouth had fallen open and his breath had hastened, Rhett finally slid his own mouth off Link’s sore hand. “Better?” He rasped.

“Uh huh,” Link answered, and as he became keenly aware of how tightly he was gripping Rhett’s thigh with his uninjured hand, he jerked away and put some space between the two of them. Wordlessly, Rhett pulled his bandana out again and wrapped it around Link’s hand, tying a perfunctory knot. “Um, thanks… for that. Sorry my hand was so dirty.”

“You know," Rhett said in his usual self-indulgent tone, "I don’t mind dirty one bit.” Link coughed, not sure exactly how to respond to that. Luckily, he was spared by the sudden arrival of Chase coming around the corner on horseback.

“There you are!” He sighed with relief. “We thought we heard a shout, and you guys had been gone for a while, so-”

“He got bit by a bullsnake, but he’s okay now,” Rhett said as he arose, back to his typical mien of _big and tall and in command_. “You need help getting back on your horse, city boy?” Link rose, too, and walked back to his horse on shaky legs.

“No, I got it,” he grumbled, but this time, he didn’t really feel any irritation at Rhett’s smug little jibe. “And this time, I’m holding my own reins.” Link looked to Chase with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that little detour.”

“I’m sorry you got bit,” Chase said sincerely. “Bullsnakes are mean little suckers if you get too close.”

“Yeah,” Link said seriously, riding ahead of the two of them, “but Rhett sucked the venom out, so I think I’m gonna be okay.” Chase narrowed his eyes in confusion.

“But bullsnakes aren’t venom-” He started, but a death glare from Rhett silenced him. He looked in alarm at Rhett before glancing up ahead at Link for a moment. Comprehension dawned on him finally, and he just grinned at Rhett, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “Yeah, you sure were lucky Rhett was there to save you,” he called to Link with a grin. “I guess you owe him now.”

“I guess I do,” Link said, gripping his reins in one trembling hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what it is with my brain, but I guess I just really love writing about Rhett sucking on Link's extremities. I mean, the hell?
> 
> Hey, I do a whole lot of Rhink shitposting on [my tumblr.](http://mei-ren-yu.tumblr.com) :)


	3. Mirage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if you're interested in this sort of thing, but I've had Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit's new record The Nashville Sound playing on repeat while writing this fic.
> 
> [Hope The High Road](https://youtu.be/ci-6Au1Gnrs) is the main thematic inspiration for the story. It's good shit. Recommended listening.

The height of afternoon was upon the ranch, and heat fell upon the earth in oppressive waves as the sun glared down. Link gazed out the windows of the cavernous common area from his cushioned seat before the extinguished hearth, his book dangling almost forgotten from loose fingertips. Not for the first time, he was glad he’d opted not to join the group after lunch out at the shooting range at the edge of the land. His hand still ached from the snake bite, though when Stevie had offered to drive him into town to see a doctor, he’d refused, winding the red bandana a little tighter around his palm. The overworked ranch owner noticed the gesture, but she didn’t say anything other than what her quiet little grin said.

That had been nearly an hour ago, and Link had been trying for almost that entire time to focus on the novel he’d lugged with him in his carry-on, but try as he might, he continued finding himself on high alert, on the watch (for what, he couldn’t say). Every single time a ranch hand crossed through the common room in heavy falling boots, busy with some task, he’d nearly broken his neck turning to see what the commotion was. Jen stood at the reception desk at the far end of the hall, and every time she shifted a stack of papers or took a phone call, Link’s heart leapt and took a good long minute to stop pounding.

He chalked it up to the possibility that Rhett hadn’t sucked out all the bullsnake venom.

The thought of Rhett set his blood to boil yet again, as he replayed the morning’s events for the hundredth time in his memory. He’d been silent all through lunch, consumed with confusion and bewilderment as he was, grateful that Rhett never joined the crew and guests for meals. Even now, when all Link wanted to do was read his book, his brain kept rerouting him to the memory of Rhett’s eyes, that hazel quicksand that made Link feel exposed and uncomfortable.

This morning, he had been almost… friendly? Maybe that wasn’t the word, but Link had the feeling that Rhett had at least tried to be less assholish, no doubt because Stevie told him to be nicer to guests. Maybe she could also tell him to dial down his intensity a skosh and stop looking so danged haunted every time he gazed down at Link. It was unsettling, and Link didn’t like the way it stirred up things in his belly.

If he really thought hard about it, he just didn’t like Rhett.

No sooner had he made that decision, the backdoor opened and Rhett came loping in holding what looked like a big baby’s bottle. He didn’t see Link sitting in the oversized chair, but Link watched him stride through the common area towards the kitchen. The back of his shirt all the way down to where it was tucked into his jeans was dark with sweat. Link swallowed hard against his own rising pulse, and when he heard Rhett returning from the kitchen, he slunk back into the chair, hidden from view. The backdoor snapped closed behind him again, sending a stifling whoosh of heat from outside into the air conditioned house. Link looked up to see Jen watching him thoughtfully from across the room.

“You know,” she called out softly, “He could probably use some help out in the stables, if you’re not busy.” Link closed his book and set it on the end table to his right.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, without a moment’s hesitation. “Yeah, I could probably help out, even with my hand like this.” Jen just nodded and returned to her work at the desk. Link looked down at the clean pair of jeans and the white crew neck he’d put on after lunch and hoped it’d be sufficient attire for stable work. Well, even if it wasn’t, Rhett would just have to deal with it.

Once he was actually out in the heat of the afternoon, it wasn’t so terrible. Yeah, the pits of his shirt were almost instantly stained with sweat, and he felt his hair product melting, but the warmth made him feel a little more alive. When he passed through the wide double doors of the stable, he was immediately grateful for the coolness of the shade.

He craned his neck to search around the stable, a little too nervous to venture much further than the entrance after what had transpired last time. There was no sight of Rhett, and Link guessed with a sinking feeling that he must have gone off-site for something. As he was turning to leave, he heard Rhett’s amused voice rise above the stillness of the stable.

“Ain’t you a fan of guns?” He asked, and Link stepped forward to see that Rhett was sitting at the gate with the tiny foal again, its little head resting in his lap as he held a bottle for it to suck on. Its nostrils were shiny, and its eyelashes rested down low, huge brown eyes batting slowly and sleepily.

“Pardon?” Link asked as he reached the pair, his heart kind of lurching at the sight of Rhett being so completely _delicate_ with the little animal.

“Why ain’t you off shootin’ with the others?” He asked quietly, eyes soft as they gazed down on the foal. Link couldn’t help but stare at the two of them. Rhett glanced up at him for an answer.

“Oh, uh,” Link stammered, holding up his wounded hand. “Figured I should take it easy.” Remembering why he’d come out to the stable in the first place, Link added, “And Jen told me to come out here to help you.” Rhett smiled slowly as he gazed back down at the foal.

“Oh, she _told_ you, did she?” He asked placidly. Link knelt down next to Rhett and tilted his head as he watched the foal weakly feed from the bottle.

“Is it okay?” He asked, forehead scrunched in concern.

“She lost her mama a few days ago,” he said grimly. “She’s only a couple weeks old. She’s real weak. It’s just easier for her to lie down like this when she’s eatin’.” He smoothed her little mane with his broad hand.

“Oh,” Link answered hollowly, itching to stroke the foal’s mane along with Rhett.

“I’m takin’ good care of her, though,” he said hopefully, and as though he had read Link’s thoughts, he shifted the bottle to his other hand and reached for Link’s good hand. Link froze a little as Rhett directed him to the foal’s mane, and with taut breath, he allowed Rhett to guide his fingers through the course auburn strands. “How’s your hand?” He asked, gesturing at the red bandana, and Link nearly shook with the way Rhett’s deep voice shivered through him now, so close and quiet.

“‘S good,” he whispered back. “Here, I can give you your bandana back.”

But Rhett just shook his head no. “Just drop it off when you’re done with it.”

“Fair enough,” Link whispered, eyes glued to their hands intertwined and stroking the tiny, fragile foal. Suddenly, Link turned to Rhett and breathlessly said, “Rhett, thanks for… helping me this morning.” But then a darkness fell over Rhett’s eyes, and he turned away with a poorly disguised grimace, releasing Link’s hand.

“No thanks needed,” he answered in a clipped tone. Then, he shifted the foal’s head up a little and gestured for Link to slide underneath her. “Look, I’ve got a lot of work to do, so if you can finish feedin’ Jessie here, I’d be much obliged.” He placed the bottle in Link’s hand and, once he was sure Jessie was settled again, he stalked off to another part of the stable, lifting two heavy buckets and carrying them out to the track.

“Sure,” Link said softly. “No problem.” He stroked Jessie’s head again as it lay heavy in his lap, her little snout resting on his knee as she latched back onto the bottle. He couldn’t help but wonder what the hell had just happened. He’d only thanked Rhett for saving his life earlier. What was with the sudden mood swing?

A while had passed without sight of Rhett, and Jessie had sucked the bottle dry and started to nose around in the hay, wearily stumbling upright. Link gently latched the gate of her pen shut and ambled outside to the large fenced-in area where he was flustered to see Rhett on the back of a large black stallion galloping in rapid circles. His shirt had been discarded, and sweat gleamed on his golden back. Link’s mouth felt dry.

At length, Rhett caught sight of Link standing at the gate and he guided the horse to a stop in front of the man. A soft smile twisted his moustache as he looked down on Link, but it vanished as soon as it appeared. “You wanna go fast, city boy?”

Link faltered. “But I don’t know how to-” He shut up when Rhett reached a hand down to him.

“Do you trust me?” He asked with mischief in his eyes.

“Not in the slightest,” Link answered drily, and Rhett laughed, but Link reached for Rhett’s hand anyway, steadying himself with one foot in the stirrup. He felt almost weightless as Rhett yanked him up, and he thanked his lucky stars that he didn’t kick the cowboy in the face as he slung his leg over the saddle, settling in tight between Rhett and the pommel of the saddle. He didn’t waste a thought on why his heart was pounding so badly. Nerves, most likely. He focused on what Rhett was telling him.

Well, he _tried_ to focus anyway, but Rhett’s broad hand was resting lightly on his little waist, and then Rhett leaned forward against Link’s back as he reached around for the reins resting inches from his crotch. The tall man’s thighs rested firmly against Link’s. Rhett positively radiated with heat from the sun, and it seemed that Link’s heart had found a new home in the pit of his stomach. The horse seemed so impossibly big between his legs. “You ready?”

“I’m kinda hot,” Link croaked, mind swimming at the heat saturating him from all sides.

“Well, let’s get this off, then,” Rhett said coolly, sliding his fingers beneath the hem of Link’s shirt, his fingertips brushing little lines of sensation into Link’s skin. Link jolted.

“No, no,” he nearly gasped. “That’s okay. I can do it myself.” Rhett’s hand dropped instantly, and Link registered the loss of the body heat pressed against his back.

“Course you can,” Rhett said matter-of-factly, leaning away as Link shimmied out of the t-shirt. He tossed it over to land on the fence post nearby. Readjusting behind Link, Rhett grabbed the reins with both hands.

“Sh- shouldn’t I be behind you?” Link asked nervously.

“Nope,” Rhett answered bluntly. “My arms are too long. I’d lose leverage.” Link didn’t have any answer. “Plus, if you slip off, someone’s gotta catch ya.” Link nodded, at a loss for words as Rhett’s breath skimmed over his shoulder. “Now,” he began in a serious voice, “Use your legs. Up and down. With me.” 

“Oh.”

“Otherwise, you’re gonna bounce around until your brains get scrambled,” he chuckled. “Ready, city boy?” Link nodded. Rhett belted a quick “Hya!” and the stallion took off. For a moment, Link scrambled to get his bearings, clinging desperately to the pommel, but that proved too small a grip, and he wildly grasped back with his sore hand to brace himself against Rhett’s thigh. Already, he could feel the steady up and down pistoning of Rhett’s muscular body in time with the rise and fall of the horses’ rapid gallop.

Link could hardly breathe, but this was a far sight more tolerable than the all-out freak-out from earlier that morning. After a while, he managed to match the movement of Rhett’s hips, but the suggestion in that movement left him red faced and painfully bashful. It didn’t take long, too, before his thighs grew shaky, unused to such exertion, and he knew it the moment Rhett realized that he was caving, because Rhett wrapped one long, strong arm around his belly to keep him from sliding off. “You’re doin’ great, Link. Just squeeze your thighs.”

“I can’t-” He cried, and he was mortified to feel how pathetically his thighs trembled, weak from only a couple short minutes of proper horseback riding.

“You wanna stop?” Rhett growled over the pounding of the horses’ hooves on the dry ground. _God, yes_ was his knee jerk reaction, but as he sank into the solid support of Rhett’s arm, and he felt the hot, slick slide of Rhett’s hard chest against his bare back, his brain became a jumbled mess.

It didn’t mean a damn thing. It had just been a long time since he’d been pressed so tight to another body, and it was playing tricks on his mind. This was _Rhett_ , he thought with mortification. The big, tough, manly cowboy. _Rhett_ , who thought Link was nothing but a big joke. “Yeah, stop, stop, stop!”

By the time they’d cantered to a halt, Link saw that they were approaching the edge of the enclosure where Stevie stood watching with one boot resting on the lower rung of the fence. “Sorry to interrupt your ride, but Kilgore’s just called. He needs you down on the waterfront for a few hours.” 

Rhett sighed sharply. “What the hell’s he need _now_?” Stevie’s eyebrow rose in long-suffering frustration.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Somethin’ ‘bout their new tractor. I didn’t catch it all. He was freakin’ out. You know Kilgore.”

“Goddamit,” he hissed. He shifted the reins away from Link, opening up a space for Link to dismount. “You can hop off here. I better go deal with this.” Link mutely nodded, suddenly very self-conscious of his state of undress as he dropped to his feet in front of Stevie. Without another word, Rhett took off on the horse, swiping his shirt up from an arch near the stable door. Before long, he’d disappeared down the path, a trail of dust rising behind him. Link watched the dust settle.

“So,” came Stevie’s voice, pulling him from his trance. “Have a nice ride?” He jerked around to look at her, her mouth twisted into a knowing smile.

“Not particularly,” he answered somewhat honestly. He reached for his discarded shirt and tugged it back on over his head.

“Maybe you should have been the one in the back then,” she said cryptically before turning back towards the ranch house. “See you at dinner?”

“See you at dinner.”

And now, just what the hell was _that_ supposed to mean, he should have been the one in the back? He needed a shower, a gallon of iced tea, and a nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your kind words. It really, really makes my day.
> 
> If you like Rhink and drunk shitposting, I humbly recommend [my tumblr](http://mei-ren-yu.tumblr.com).


	4. Common Knowledge

Link had never much cared for iced tea, but right in that moment, it seemed transcendental. He gulped freely from the chilly mason jar in his hand as the sickly sweet stuff helped douse the heat that still glowed through his whole body. Micah glanced at him from across the kitchen, where he sat on an overturned metal bucket, peeling a huge stack of potatoes with a wooden-handled paring knife.

“Careful,” he said softly, his shy eyes staying trained on the work in his hands. “You might drown yourself if you don’t slow down.” Link practically gasped as he came up for air. He smiled at the pale young man across the airy kitchen and laughed.

“What, you don’t know CPR?” Link joked with him. Micah’s face lit up with a bright smile.

“Well, no,” he said, and his smile dropped ever so slightly. “But I know a whole lot about surviving other calamities on this ranch. All the workers do.” His silence was loaded, and Link listened with eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “For example,” he said in a benign tone, “Bullsnakes got a mighty painful bite.”

Link almost jumped in with a “Yeah, no _shit_.”

“But they’re harmless as they come,” Micah finished, now staring hard at the knife in his hands as his face tinged pink. “Ain’t a lick of venom in ‘em.” Link’s jaw grew tense, and his grip on the mason jar could have shattered it.

“And that’s common knowledge?” Link asked through gritted teeth, as he fought to maintain his composure despite feeling heat rising in his chest. Micah said nothing. He just looked up at Link, his brow rising as if to say _I’ve said too much_. Link set the jar on the kitchen counter and shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he let out a tense breath. 

He needed a shower.

The water was so cool just to spite the heat as it sluiced down his tired body. With slender fingers, he scrubbed all the sweat and dirt from his skin, but when his arms crossed to hug his waist, he sucked in a sharp breath at the memory of Rhett steadying him on the horse.

How could Rhett not have known bullsnakes were harmless? Link repeated the question over and over in his head as the water poured down over him, loud in his ears, but he still wasn’t any closer to having an answer by the time he’d slipped naked between the sheets of his bed. It just seemed like some big prank, just Rhett trying to humiliate him in front of all the other ranch hands, like the dumb city boy he thought Link to be. He resolved to find Rhett some time after dinner and demand an explanation from the asshole.

His nap had been tormented with dreams he couldn’t remember by the time he’d returned to full consciousness. He glanced at his watch and decided he’d best get ready for dinner pronto if he didn’t want to be late. Micah was sure to be cooking up something mouth watering. He yanked on a plain grey t-shirt and some of his looser, lighter skinny jeans before tugging on some black Chucks.

He arrived in time to find himself seated near the far end of the table, across from the woman who’d visually devoured him over breakfast (Margot, if he recalled correctly) and her husband (Ed, if he recalled correctly). The couple were probably in their late 40s, only a decade or so older than Link. As he slipped into his seat, her weathered face lit up, and she tossed her brassy braid of hair to the other shoulder. He instantly regretted the empty seat next to him. She seemed poised to monopolize his attention.

“Why, Link,” she sighed, drawing out his name. “We missed you this afternoon, didn’t we, Ed?” Ed glanced up from his phone to Link and back down again.

“We sure did,” he grumbled.

“Sorry about that,” he answered, and he almost brought up the snake bite again as an excuse, but the thought of Rhett’s jerky prank filled him with embarrassment, and he said nothing more, glancing down at the red bandana. He had half a mind to rip it off. He didn’t even know why he’d put it on again.

He was interrupted from his lousy thoughts by the whole table going quiet suddenly. Looking up, he found everyone looking towards the far end of the dining room where Rhett filled the doorway with his tall frame, looking immaculate in a crisp, black button up tucked into tight, black jeans and polished, black boots and matching belt. The belt buckle was ornate and ostentatious. His hair was coiffured high, and his beard had been combed tidy. 

Link wasn’t sure how long his mouth had been hanging open, but when Rhett slid into the chair next to him, he had to surreptitiously wipe away a drop of saliva. A wave of warm, spicy cologne drifted through Link’s senses, and he studiously trained his eyes onto the plate in front of him, suddenly feeling underdressed and extremely intimidated. Rhett didn’t say a single word of greeting to him, and that was just fine by Link.

Stevie, seated at the head of the table, said, “Welcome, stranger,” and Rhett had the good grace to look a little abashed. Link watched Stevie share a secret smile with Chase and Jen before the three of them caught Link looking their way. He didn’t have time to process it, because just then, Micah rolled in with the trolley of piping hot dishes of brisket, mashed potatoes, roast carrots and thick slices of cornbread, with dewy pitchers of iced tea resting on the lower rack.

When he noticed Rhett sitting amongst the diners, Micah merely let out a surprised, “Oh!” and he fished out an extra place setting from a buffet against the wall behind Stevie, thunking it down on the table in front of Rhett before returning to the trolley to deliver the food to the waiting table. Once Micah was in his seat, they began to enthusiastically serve their own plates. Link tried to help himself to two thick slices of brisket, but his injured hand shook with the effort. 

Wordlessly, Rhett reached to help him, but then he leaned over as he forked the meat onto Link’s plate and muttered, “Bet they ain’t got brisket like _this_ in New York.” Link rolled his eyes.

“Wouldn’t know,” he said loftily. “I’m from North Carolina.” Rhett looked taken aback.

“Well, I’ll be,” he said appreciatively. “You’ve been a Southern boy all this time.” Link looked at him, smug.

“Like I said,” he replied haughtily, reaching for the pepper shaker, “there’s a lot you don’t know about me, _Tex_.”

“Georgia, actually,” Rhett corrected him, taking the shaker from Link. “Macon, to be exact. You know, we almost moved to North Carolina when I was little, but Daddy didn’t take the job.” Link hummed, unsure why Rhett was sharing his goddamn life story all of a sudden. “Just imagine, in another life we coulda been lifelong friends.”

Link snorted. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to settle for being brief enemies.” Rhett’s eyes narrowed for a second, and he turned his whole upper body towards Link.

“Is that what we are?” He asked quietly, neither smiling nor visibly upset. Link looked him hard in the eyes for a solid moment, but he didn’t say a word. He felt he didn’t need to. Rhett knew what he’d done, what he’d been like. He turned to the older couple seated across the table from Rhett and him.

“So, Margot,” Link asked, feigning friendly interest, “what is it that you and Ed do for a living?” She beamed at Link, but then he noticed with a flash of irritation that her eyes quickly strayed to the tall, statuesque man sitting next to him chewing his food way too hard with a stormy look in his pale eyes.

“Well,” she said sweetly, “Ed and I just travel these days. He did very well in the housing industry right before the collapse. Liquidated everything he owned and got out while the getting was good.” Link’s expression soured against his will. He now had a valid reason to dislike the pair. Her traveling eyes flashed again as she asked with a certain air of overzealous pity, “I heard that you’re recently divorced.”

“Now, Margot,” Ed intervened, but she shushed him and pressed on, looking at Link expectantly. He felt compelled to answer, even as he felt Rhett stiffen next to him.

“Well, yeah,” he started, stirring at his mashed potatoes with his fork. “She, uh… Yeah, she left me.” Margot gasped, clutching at her cheap pearl necklace with one gaudily manicured hand.

“Oh, Link,” she practically purred. “Now, I’m perfectly happy with Eddie here, but if I had a man like you, well…” Her voice went all low. Link could feel Rhett staring at him while this transpired. “Well, I’d _never_ let you go.” Link was dying for this train of conversation to crash and burn. He’d rather even go back to talking to fucking _Rhett_ if it would spare him the likes of Sub-Prime Mortgage Margot. He needed a way to shut her up, so he took a swing in the dark.

“Well, Margot,” he said brightly. “I guess she had no choice. She’s pretty convinced that I’m secretly gay.” He heard Rhett choke on his tea, and he grit his teeth, pretty pissed off that he’d just given Rhett more material to mock him with. Maybe it was worth it, though, because Margot’s mouth dropped open a little, and she seemed marginally subdued. 

She leaned forward, whispering, “But why would she ever think _that_?”

“Well, to tell you the truth, Margot,” Link answered nonchalantly, “it might be the fact that she found me in bed with another man.” Margot’s eyes went wide, but Link was more concerned with Rhett suddenly dropping his fork to the floor with a clatter and hastily shoving away from the table to retrieve it, redfaced and cursing under his breath.

Without even thinking, Link brought his hand to the back of Rhett’s head with the intention of keeping him from hitting it on the way back up, but the wild look in Rhett’s eyes at the touch was enough to set Link’s blood aflame. Surely, Rhett didn’t think he was-

His entire existence came screeching to a halt when Rhett, staring him squarely in the eyes, glanced down at Link’s lips. Slowly and hungrily, he drew his plump bottom lip between his teeth before gazing up once more into Link’s wide blues.

There were very few things a look like that could mean. 

Link was livid. He suddenly felt a horrible, stifling heat that left him praying for dinner to be over soon. He had already had a really low opinion of Rhett, but he was shocked breathless that the mockery had already begun so quickly. For Rhett to play gay chicken like that, trying to… trying to turn Link on just to embarrass him, was just-

He almost missed Stevie’s question from the head of the table. “Do what, Stevie?” He asked, shaking himself from the rage that had left his fists balled tight on his lap.

“I was just asking y’all if you’re comin’ out to see the meteor shower at midnight tonight?” She asked brightly.

“Oh, that sounds splendid,” Margot squealed, “doesn’t it, Ed?” He grumbled. Stevie looked directly at Link.

“How ‘bout you, Link?” She asked, all kind smiles and laughing eyes. He wanted to ask if Rhett was going to be there, because right now, all he needed was to be a thousand miles away from the horrid man.

“I’ll think about it,” he said, noncommittal. “I’m pretty tired.” She gave him a cute frown and returned to conversation with those at the head of the table, and Link glanced once at Rhett, who was focused on downing his meal with vigor. Link could barely taste the food on his own plate. Rhett had shut down again, not looking at or speaking to Link.

He’d really had just about enough of dealing with the tall blond, and he’d lost his appetite. Before Micah had even served dessert, Link excused himself from the table and hid away in his room. He threw himself onto his bed and sighed dramatically, immediately beginning to agonize over the irritating, smug enigma that was Rhett.

He thought of all the smirking and derision and jokes and the billion times he’d been called _city boy_ as though it were the cleverest and sharpest insult in the world. But then he thought about the feeling of Rhett’s mouth on his hand and the soft little touches every now and then, and the way Rhett’s eyes had been so dark at dinner, and that honestly just made him a little angrier. He thought of Rhett’s lean, golden body covered in sweat and just as soon as the thought enveloped him, stirring his body to life, he quashed it. Rhett was a piece of shit, and nothing would change that.

Link would be damned if he made himself come from the memory of Rhett pistoning behind him on the horse, all slick and hot and strong as their bare skin came together. Oh, god, how he despised Rhett. He closed his eyes and tried to will away the swirling tempest of emotion that left him feeling so raw, so on the edge.

 

When he woke up, it was a half hour to midnight. He thought of the kind and friendly people gathered out under the stars on the beautiful ranch at that moment, without him, and he grew frustrated. He shouldn’t have to miss the meteor shower on account of one solitary, abject asshole. He shoved himself off the bed and grabbed a light jacket. As he was pulling it on, he heard a quiet knock at the door.

He opened the door, and his heart fell into his stomach when he saw who was waiting on the other side. His anger resurfaced, but he kept his face neutral as Rhett said, “Oh, uh, if you’re busy, I can bother you later.” Rhett’s cologne drifted over him again and left him a little lightheaded.

“Did you want to come in?” Link asked in a cool, angular voice. Rhett glanced over his shoulder to the bed behind him for a brief second.

“Well, uh, no,” he answered hesitantly, sliding one broad palm along the nape of his neck. “I just came to see if you’s joinin’ us outside. For the meteor shower.” Link scanned the man’s face for any kind of tell. He found none.

“Yeah,” he answered a bit gruffly.

“Well, uh,” Rhett began, “you’d best come with me. We picked a spot way down yonder by the river, and someone’s gotta show you.” Link rolled his eyes.

“Fine.”

Rhett looked like he was about to say something, but instead, he just sighed and turned to walk down the hall. Outside, in the pale moonlight, Link walked silently next to him. The night was alive with the chirp of billions of crickets and a cool breeze whipping through the sparse greenery. He could feel Rhett glancing at him occasionally as they walked, but the man kept mum. As they were nearing the stable, Rhett froze.

“I forgot the flashlight,” he mumbled, standing in front of Link.

“Okay?” Link asked flippantly. Rhett shifted on his feet and swallowed. Link looked up at him, suddenly feeling unsure of himself.

“My apartment’s up in the stable loft,” he said softly.

“Okay?” Link said again, but this time, he could barely get the word out.

“Want to come up with me to get it?” Rhett asked, his eyes shining in the moonlight. Link felt hot in spite of the breeze.

“I’ll wait here,” he said shakily, something in Rhett’s tone really getting beneath his skin.

“No, I-” Rhett started, biting his lip again, eyes trained on Link’s every move. “You really should come up and get it.” Link’s hands felt clammy, and he nearly reached out to steady himself against Rhett.

“Okay,” he whispered, nodding, and suddenly, he found himself climbing a narrow wooden stair behind Rhett, who held the door open for Link as he stepped into the broad, rustic loft. In a tall, antique floor mirror, he could see Rhett close the door behind them. He didn’t have long to react, though, when Rhett strode over to him and yanked Link around to face him.

His eyes burned with hellfire in the low light that filtered over them from the bedside lamp. Link’s entire body roared into fight-or-flight mode as Rhett towered over him, looking quite unlike Link had ever seen him. He was suddenly a feral thing made of forest fire and the ocean’s roaring and of deep wilderness. 

He got in Link’s face, and he growled, “You drive me up the _fuckin’_ wall! You know that?” Link immediately backed away, nearly tripping over a chair. 

“Hey,” he gasped, “I’m not the one who’s been an asshole since moment one!” His chest heaved with indignation and a little honest fear. Rhett was so, so much bigger than him, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to put up a fight.

“Oh, I’m an asshole, am I?” Rhett snarled, stalking after Link even as he reached a wall and could retreat no further. “I have done _nothing_ but help you.”

“ _Help_ me? Are you fucking serious right now?” Link declared, but his voice was a shaken rattle.

“Yeah, I'm fuckin' serious,” Rhett said, and Link almost gave a damn that he sounded a little wounded. “And you just turn into the most stuck-up little ice queen at the drop of a pin.” He pushed Link hard into the wall, his hand splayed across Link's chest. Link's eyes went wide, but he didn't shove Rhett away. He knew he couldn't anyway.

“What about _you_?” Link bellowed. “One second, you're almost human, and the next, you've gone all brooding, like you'd rather be a thousand miles away.” Rhett's eyes sparked with anger.

“ _Almost human_ ,” he said hollowly. “Well, I guess that about sums up how you think about me.” 

“Don't flatter yourself, cowboy. I _don't_ think about you,” Link lied. Rhett froze for a moment, but then his shoulders dropped. Link felt energized by a triumphant malicious streak, so he took another swipe, “Besides, you're an asshole, and I frankly detest you.” Rhett had had enough. The fight had completely left him, but when he turned to leave, he found himself pinned to the spot by Link’s hand fisted in his shirt. He looked down at Link’s grip on him for what seemed an eternity. Link’s heart pounded wildly, unsure himself just what exactly he was inviting to happen.

When Rhett looked up finally, his lips wound themselves into a snarl. “Well,” he said in a gravelly baritone, “if I’m such an asshole, then I guess I can just do _this_ without asking.” He grabbed Link’s ass in his big, strong hands and pulled their bodies together as he bent down to steal a harsh, fast kiss from Link’s shocked lips. He scanned Link’s face for sign of protest, but he must have taken too long to do so, because Link surged forward and wrapped his hands around the back of Rhett’s neck, pulling him down for a starving, deep kiss, the sensation of soft beard and wet, firm lips against his mouth drawing a shiver from his core.

“You fucking asshole,” Link began when they came up gasping for air, but whatever he had intended to say got lost in the ether when Rhett slid a sure palm across Link’s cock. Even through his jeans, Link thought he’d nearly come, needy as a teenager with as tense and stressed and frantic as he’d been feeling every time Rhett was within arm’s reach.

Rhett grabbed his wrists and pulled him away from the wall, practically dragging him to stand in front of the tall mirror. He spun Link around to gaze at the glass, and Rhett pulled him against his body, the two of them gazing at their reflections in the mirror. Rhett stood so much taller and broader than him, and it make Link’s heart ache with the beauty of it. Rhett gripped Link’s waist with one hand and slid his other hand down torturously slow to palm Link’s cock again. Link’s legs threatened to quit. He brought up one hand to brace himself against Rhett’s neck.

“I hate you so fucking much,” Link moaned as he pressed back against Rhett’s solid body. Rhett smiled softly, eyes glued to the reflection of the man slowly falling apart in his hands.

“I know, baby,” Rhett said darkly. “I want you, too.” He took Link’s bitten off moan as permission to flick open the button of his jeans and slide down the zipper, all the while breathing hot against his little city boy’s neck. Link’s mouth fell open as he watched Rhett slip down his black boxer briefs and tenderly pull Link’s cock through the gap in his jeans.

“Oh, fuck,” he panted. The rough brush of a work-hardened hand against his most intimate flesh nearly made him cry, so gorgeous and _fucking right_ it felt. Rhett spat a gob of spit into his fingertips and spread it over the head of Link’s cock, twisting his wrist as he fisted the long shaft in a steady pace. He cried out, “Yeah, like that.”

“That feel good, baby?” Rhett whispered hotly in Link’s ear. “Been wantin’ this cock since I first laid eyes on you, city boy.” Link moaned, and his heart twisted to feel so completely surrounded and held and nourished by the steady arms and warm cologne that had become his whole existence. His eyelids batted heavy against his stained cheeks as his head lolled against Rhett’s chest. “Been wantin’ to give you a good, hard fuckin’.”

He’d been close before Rhett had even pulled him free of his jeans, but the sultry, rough hunger in Rhett’s voice set off a pipe bomb in Link’s belly, and when he came, his hot come gushed forth in a shattered arc that splattered against the mirror and dripped in thin, trailing streams down the smudged glass.

“Whoa, baby,” Rhett groaned appreciatively, and then he drawled in Link’s ear, “ _Good_ job, Link.” Link laughed as he tried to steady his breathing, trembling under Rhett’s lazily roaming hands. He turned around in the man’s arms, looking up at him with big, wide eyes.

“You want me to…?” He asked, reaching for Rhett’s rigid cock, still at full attention in his jeans. Rhett just chuckled softly.

“We’re gonna be late for the meteor shower,” he whispered, unable to stop himself from pressing a soft kiss to Link’s lips.

“We could, you know, stay in here,” Link offered. “I got a feeling you’d find another way to make me see stars.” Rhett laughed again, but he just tucked Link’s spent cock back in his underwear and fastened his jeans for him.

“What would the neighbors think?” He teased, and grabbing the flashlight and Link’s hand, he led them out to the campsite where the others had already gathered around. When the two arrived, all disheveled and still a little keyed up, Link couldn’t help but notice Stevie raise her eyebrow triumphantly at Jen and Chase, who promptly sighed before pulling out their wallets and slipping cash into her outstretched hand.

Oh, well, he figured that the neighbors could think whatever they wanted to, and he snuggled up next to Rhett on a blanket next to the fire as the first burst of drifting starshine lit the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All your comments and kudos really warm the moldy cockles of my trash witch heart. Thanks, Mythical Beasts!
> 
> Also, if you liked this fic, you WON'T WANNA MISS MY DRUNK SHITPOSTING!!!! You can follow my dumpster fire of a tumblr [here](http://mei-ren-yu.tumblr.com).


	5. Ride 'em, Cowboy

The last time he’d woken up in the arms of another person, he’d still been a mostly happily married man. Link could still remember the weight of his wife's body draped over his in their too small bed, warm and soft, lovely and in love. How wrong he’d been to think he could chase that feeling forever, that she’d always be enough, that he’d never change in the years they were together. 

One of the hardest realizations of his life was that it had all been wrong, everything. His mom had been wrong about Jesus and the way a kid should be raised. He’d been wrong to think he could grow old with a woman he had little in common with. Christy had been wrong about _him_. He’d been wrong about his own truest desires. It was all a mistake. A big joke. But the punchline wasn’t a very good one. It was the twin chorus of Christy’s heart breaking and his whole life being torn to shreds. Thank Christ they’d never had kids.

But that was a long time ago, and he’d long come to terms with the fact that to wake up next to someone was to be loved, and after what he’d done to Christy, maybe he just didn’t deserve love anymore. 

Rhett stirred next to him, dozing in the warmth of the campfire’s glowing embers, and a terrible, dark cloud descended upon Link. He untucked himself from Rhett’s side and shoved himself to an upright seat, immediately feeling the loss of Rhett’s comforting warmth. He looked up at the sky, dotted with billions of bright points of light, and he wondered just what the hell he thought he was doing here with this man. 

Most of the group had already retreated back to the ranch house. Chase and Micah remained, leaning against a section of thick hewn log, shooting the breeze in the cool night air. Link instantly grew self-conscious of being seen here cuddled up next to a guy whose name he’d spent their entire acquaintanceship cursing. Well, almost the whole time, he thought with a blush.

He couldn’t do this. What had transpired in Rhett’s apartment had been stupid and reckless and directly a result of months of horrible anxiety and loneliness. He didn’t know what Rhett wanted from him, but he was certain that he was too broken and selfish to be able to give it to him. And at any rate, he’d be heading back home tomorrow after lunch anyway. He ignored the pang of loss that ricocheted through him at the thought. He had to get away from Rhett.

He’d made it all the way to his room by the time he realized he’d left his jacket out in the wilderness, tucked under that beautiful, infuriating man’s sleeping head. Oh, well, he could take the loss. God only knew how much he’d lost already. He sighed heavily, his chest aching with self-pity and anger for having let Rhett get so close.

A soft knock sounded at his door, so soft he wasn’t completely sure he hadn't just imagined it. He ignored it, chalking up the sound to rats scratching around in the wall or, god, just anything, because he already knew exactly who stood on the other side of the door. He wondered wildly how long he’d have to feign sleep before Rhett would just give up and leave him the hell alone forever.

It was almost easy to ignore the second knock, compared to how hard it had become to ignore the thrumming in his veins and the heat that was already settling low in his belly. His fingers itched at his sides. For a moment, he thought that maybe Rhett deserved an explanation for him disappearing, but then just as quickly came the tag along thought that he didn’t owe _shit_ to Rhett, and as he dragged his tense frame from his bed, clothed now only in his boxer briefs and his t-shirt, he figured he might as well inform Rhett of the fact.

“What?” He hissed as he yanked the door open. Rhett blanched, but his eyes still travelled down the sculpted length of Link’s wiry legs. The tall man held out Link’s dusty jacket.

“You forgot this,” Rhett whispered, stifled by the echo of the hall. Link quickly yanked the jacket from his hand.

“Thank you, and good night.” He went to shut the door in Rhett’s face, but Rhett would not be so easy to dismiss. He slipped one booted foot into the door jamb, effectively blocking Link’s efforts to disappear.

“Not this shit again,” Rhett growled, pushing the door (and Link) inwards. He slipped his lean frame inside, gingerly closing the door behind him with a soft _snick_ , and he rested against the carved oak, glaring down at Link with blazing eyes and hot breath that sluiced through his flared nostrils. Link stepped backwards.

“What are you-”

“Just gonna let me jack you off and then make me look like a fool in front of my friends?” Rhett asked, his voice taut and trembling with anger, but it was the pain in his voice that Link heard loudest. “Guess you really meant it when you said I’s _almost_ human.” Link went silent, glaring down at his hands, knowing that that was exactly what this whole thing looked like. He suddenly realized that a decent man would explain himself had he been acting like Link had. 

The words wouldn’t come. The right words anyway.

“You haven’t treated me much better,” Link stammered, glad for the distance between them, because Rhett glared at him with renewed hellfire in his eyes.

“Name one damn time I-”

“Oh, I think you know exactly what you’ve been doing,” Link hissed, all thoughts of soothing Rhett’s hurt gone. The asshole thought that he’d done nothing wrong, and that really chapped the ass of Link’s over-developed sense of justice. He stormed up to Rhett, looking up, up into his livid face as he jabbed Rhett’s chest with an accusatory finger. “Minute one, you come out of that damn pickup just laughing at me and calling me fucking ‘city boy.’” He paused, breathless, as Rhett’s face fell blank, unreadable but for the fire still dancing in his eyes.

“Point two?” He drawled, husky and venomous.

“You shouted at me in the stable last night,” Link said, aware of how childish the indictment came across. He jabbed Rhett’s chest again to make his point somehow stick. 

“Point three?”

“The- the…” Link hesitated. “Well, the ride this morning, when you sucked my hand!”

“You begged me to,” Rhett reminded him, and Link found his gaze egregiously stolen by the soft beard and chapped red lips that spoke those words.

“You _knew_ that I’d be fine,” Link nearly screamed. “You did it so all your friends would laugh at me! ‘Look at that idiot Link! Doesn't know a snake from a water hose!’” He shoved Rhett hard into the wood of the door, and a dull pain shot up his arm from the bite. In spite, he yanked the bandana from his hand and shoved it in Rhett’s face, rubbing it in for a moment. “Thanks for _nothing_ , asshole.” Rhett’s hands had been braced against the wood behind him since Link had started his whole tirade, and he just let the bandana flutter to the floor once Link had gotten his fill of abusing the man.

Rhett’s eyes fluttered shut as he shakily sighed. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, Rhett,” Link growled, gripping Rhett’s shirt as best he could. “You’ve been so stop-and-go all damn day. I swear I’ve got whiplash.” Rhett slowly peered down at Link’s trembling hands. He could feel Link’s hot breath against his chest. He watched as Link swayed before him.

“Are you finished?” Rhett asked evenly, unsteady himself in the dual assault of Link’s scent and fury. Link’s grip grew tighter, and he was standing so very close now, chest rising and falling. He had been awfully brave for a man not wearing pants, and now he just felt overwhelmed by Rhett’s mere existence.

“Mmhmm,” he sighed, body strung taut, beginning to yield to Rhett’s silent power despite himself, his anger slowly being scoured away by a very different, most unwelcome sort of heat.

“Good,” Rhett practically purred, and the rumble of his deep voice lit a long fuse that ran in a straight line down to Link’s cock. Link nearly groaned, but suddenly, his eyes snapped open as he felt his entire body shoved away. He stumbled backwards, just barely managing to break his fall against a low chest of drawers. He drank in the sight of Rhett now, all patience and tolerance gone. The man who stood before him now was angular and starving, stalking in on him slowly, and Link’s legs started to _shake_.

“Rhett-” He whispered in a high voice.

“No, you don’t get to speak right now,” Rhett rumbled, “You said your piece.” He stomped up to Link where the man stood frozen, the wide bed behind him, now bracketed in place by Rhett’s colossal frame. He slipped one calloused finger beneath Link’s clean shaven chin and forced the wiry man to look into his eyes. “First,” he hissed with the curl of a lip, “I was laughin’ at you, because I thought you were the most darlin’ thing I’d ever laid eyes on, all huffin’ and puffin’ like that, _city boy_.” Link licked his lips nervously, and Rhett relinquished his chin just to slide his broad palms down Link’s ribcage, coming to a rest on his narrow waist. “Second, I shouted at you ‘cause you surprised me in a vulnerable place, and I’s rightly embarrassed you caught me. Plus, you scared lil’ Jessie.” 

Link blushed, eyes suddenly glued to the thumbs rubbing circles across his bottom ribs. “Oh.” He tried to ignore the little plasma runners of pleasure that tightened his nipples, beading obviously through the cotton of his shirt. When he felt Rhett’s hands adding pressure _down_ , he allowed the man to push him to sit on the bed. His body thrummed with the recoil of hormones and primal hunger pumping through his veins. Rhett pushed Link onto his back, and Link didn’t put up a fight, wanting whatever Rhett wanted and wanting it desperately, wanting it now.

“Third,” Rhett breathed against his neck, as he straddled Link’s narrow hips with his long legs, dragging his beard against Link’s skin, “in my defense, you looked so good beggin’ me to suck on you, your eyes all crazy and needy like that.” He nipped Link's tender earlobe, stealing Link’s hands away to press them against the mattress above his head. “Wanted to throw you over my shoulder and drag you off to a cave somewhere.” The touch left a rolling bubble of lightness to drift from Link’s nipples all the way down to his half-hard cock. “I’d’ve sucked every _inch_ of you this mornin’ if you’d’ve given me half a chance.”

“Oh.” Wantonly, primally, Link thrust his cock up against Rhett’s hips. Rhett grunted. He knew the pressure of his weight and his jeans was probably too much for Link in his state of undress, but Link’s stuttering breath left Rhett a little indelicate.

“As for that last one,” he continued, nipping Link’s collarbone through his t-shirt, the flesh of his pec, a nipple. Link keened. “Well, I guess I’s trynna keep my distance. Thought you was a _family man_ ,” he whispered, his lips twisting in an ironic smirk. “Never wanted no one like I want you.” He raked his nails down Link’s sides as he licked said lips, and the trembling man whined, his blues eyes rolling into the back of his head. Rhett wasted no time in yanking the soft, grey shirt off Link’s body and tossing it to the hardwood floor. 

As he straddled Link’s crotch, still completely dressed, every single button still fastened, he dragged his nails down Link’s sides again, this time leaving rows of hot raised skin. “Oh, god, Rhett,” Link hissed sharply as Rhett ground his hips down onto Link’s tender dick.

“But when you told that horrible woman about...” Rhett began, nipping the flesh just below Link’s belly button. Link jolted and gasped. “...About… being caught…” He brushed his lips across Link’s hip, pressing tiny kisses over his narrow hips and tight boxer briefs. “...With another man…” Rhett planted his palms on Link’s thighs and spread his legs wide open, planting his face down beneath Link’s hot, tight balls. He breathed deeply the scent of Link’s sweat and musk and arousal. His vision swam with it when Link dug his fingers into that blonde mane and _tugged_. He dug into Link’s hips with a grip of steel, his small, wet mouth hovering just above the outline in black cotton of Link’s full, long dick. “Took everythin’ in me not to throw your narrow ass up onto the table and fuck you right there in the mashed potatoes.”

“Rhett!” Link sighed, now tugging at his own hair as he tried to thrust up towards Rhett’s lips. “Please.”

“Well, I reckon I just might, you sayin’ my name so pretty like that,” he chuckled, pressing his tongue to the head of Link’s dick, and Link jerked in total rigidity. Hunger roared in Rhett’s whole body, and he opened his mouth all wide and sloppy and just mouthed over the whole length, slobbering obscenely, soaking Link’s underwear with his spit.

“Please!” Link cried out, not specifying exactly what he needed, but Rhett was quite sure Link didn’t have to say. The softness of Link’s pink cheeks, his tiny little waist, his toned little thighs, his hard cock, the bites and scratches singing bright red on his pale skin... all this left Rhett feeling like a lunatic in his desperation. Unthinking, he grabbed for the center of Link’s waistband with both hands, gripped tight and _tore_ the cloth away from Link’s body. “Jesus, Rhett,” the man gasped as Rhett ripped the garment to scraps and threw it across the room.

Link lay suddenly and completely revealed to him, and Rhett spared no thought to finally taking his own clothes off as he returned his bruising grip to Link’s skinny hips and darted out his pointy little tongue, licking the full length of the ball-achingly beautiful, rosy cock on display to his eyes only. His mouth stretched tight around the girth of it as he popped the slick head past his lips and took the length deep, trying his best to swallow, gagging hard, gasping and drooling around it. Link was seeing _fucking stars_.

Rhett gripped the base of Link’s dick and positioned his own index and middle fingers to run parallel its rigid length. He sucked both cock and digits into his hungry mouth, feeling a spike of lust as his own spit ran in rivulets down his knuckles, dripping down Link’s balls. He slipped his fingers out of his mouth, and when he returned to fucking his own face on Link’s dick, he shouldered Link’s thighs and pressed his middle finger to Link's tight, pink hole, hesitating. 

“Now!” Link plead breathlessly, already a moaning and gibbering mess, and if Rhett hadn’t known any better, he might have guessed Link had never received a proper blowjob, had never been well and truly fucked. Link, for his part, was trying his very best not to burst into tears at how good it felt to be thus manhandled. Rhett’s mouth was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, and he felt like this was killing him.

When Rhett slid one sure finger into Link, he sighed, welcoming the intrusion but desperate to feel something bigger, needing the burn of being truly taken by the man. Rhett could sense it in the way Link’s voice was all pitchy with whining, and he worked a second finger in. Link breathed a shakier, hoarse whimper, and his eyes flickered closed. Rhett didn’t slow the way his mouth rose and fell on Link, the way his tongue lathed the thick vein on the underside of the gorgeous dick he was sucking, but he began to thrust his fingers in and out of the warm, slick heat of Link’s little asshole, brushing as firmly as he could against the bundle of nerves within.

Before long, Link thought he could take no more. He shuddered, his thighs snapping up tight around Rhett’s head. Rhett immediately slipped his fingers out of Link’s heat, and he pushed away from Link’s body.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Link growled, reaching for him. “Get back over here.”

“I thought you hated me,” Rhett whispered, a jarringly sexy little grin overcoming his sinful mouth. Link sat up, his cock bobbing with each pulse of his racing heart.

“Oh, I hate you, alright,” he swore, seeing only Rhett’s sparking eyes.

“Good,” Rhett drawled, all sweet and slow like dripping honey. He walked over to a sturdy wooden chair next to the dresser opposite the bed. He pulled a small bottle from his back pocket and set it on the dresser. Turning back to Link, he licked his lips and reached for his belt buckle, unhitching it and making slow, agonizing work of unbuttoning his jeans. Link couldn’t take his eyes off of Rhett’s frame, so big, so strong. His vision fuzzed out for a moment. Once the brute had slid down the zipper and shimmied his jeans and underwear down to his muscular thighs, he sat back in the chair, resting his head against the wall, and undid each button on his shirt, one by one by one, watching Link with a teasing, hot smirk. When he parted the shirt to the side, Link zoned in on the thick, dark cock that rested against Rhett’s belly, and he just about _swooned_.

“Rhett, I’m kinda naked here,” Link whispered, sliding to the edge of the bed, sitting mere feet from the man’s impossible body. “You wanna take off your-”

“What I _want_ is to teach you how to ride, city boy,” Rhett said, simmering under Link’s gaze. “Now, bring that narrow ass over here.” Link practically fell over himself in his need, bracing himself with his good hand against Rhett’s shoulder as he lifted himself into Rhett’s waiting lap. He reached down to wrap a sure hand around both their cocks, and Rhett uncapped the bottle of lube he’d brought and splattered a good amount down onto Link’s busy fingers. He wrapped his own hand around Link’s and the two worked their dicks slick together.

“I could do this all night,” Link sighed as his head lolled back. Rhett surged forward and bit at the juncture of Link's neck and shoulder, drawing a strained groan from Link’s parted lips.

“Too dang bad, cowboy,” he huffed. “You kept me waitin’ too long already.” Rhett grasped Link’s waist, smearing lube up the side of his skinny body as he lifted Link up easily. “We’re playin’ by my rules now, you cocky little shit.” Link’s attention snapped to Rhett’s face, his blue eyes wide and shocked, mouth hanging. “You’d best shut your mouth, or I’ll shut it for ya.” Link swallowed hard, body singing with the threat.

“Asshole,” he grunted, digging his nails into Rhett’s shoulders as Rhett reached down between them, guiding his dick against Link’s slick little pucker.

“Bet you hate me now, don’tcha?” Rhett growled as he slid inside Link’s body.

“God, yes, so much,” Link panted as he took every thick inch of what Rhett gave him. “You have no i- idea.”

“Tell me,” Rhett managed to choke out, hands shaking where they held Link all the way down on his lap.

“Huh?”

“Tell me how much you hate me,” he hissed, voice breaking. Link pried his own eyes open, staring down at Rhett like down the barrel of a gun.

“I’ve never hated anyone more than I hate you,” he said, all guttural and hoarse. And that was enough for Rhett. He lifted Link’s body easily and brought him back down hard on his dick. “Oh, _god_ , you fucking asshole!” Link cried out.

“You look so good on my dick, baby,” Rhett whispered, his head falling back against the wall as Link took over, snaking his body over Rhett’s, pistoning his hips up and down at a punishing pace, praising the universe for the slick, velvet stretch of Rhett’s cock stroking him so intimately. In his delirium, Rhett teased, “Yeah, ride 'em, cowboy.”

Oh, _god_ , it had never been like this before. Link felt cleansed.

He worked his cowboy hard, using Rhett’s lapels as reins as he rode him into the sunset of his messy orgasm, little warning there was as his balls tightened and he blew his wad all over Rhett’s chest. Rhett’s peak came chasing soon after, and he dug his fingernails into Link’s hips almost hard enough to draw blood as he gushed inside Link’s quivering core with a rocky groan.

Link collapsed against him, exhausted, and Rhett wrapped his arms tightly around Link’s weakened little body, holding him like his whole universe depended on it. Link just gasped against Rhett’s neck until the frenzy inside him cooled. He worshipped the sensation of Rhett’s softening cock still pressed up into him, sealing him up tight.

With remorse, he finally pressed his hands against Rhett’s shoulders, making a move to slip off of his soft cock, but he found himself pinned in place by Rhett’s hands firmly grasping at his waist again. He looked to Rhett’s face for explanation, but he found the man’s hazel eyes glued to where their bodies were still joined. “Easy does it,” he purred as he guided Link slowly up. Rhett’s cock slipped out, and Link nearly wanted to cry as he fought to keep the come inside him from spilling out all over Rhett. Rhett gave him a gentle squeeze. “No, baby, I wanna see you drippin’ with my come.”

“Oh, gosh,” Link said with a puff of surprise. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and focused on relaxing his hole. He drank in Rhett’s little gasp when the stream of milky come dribbled out of him in stringy gobs onto Rhett’s thighs. Rhett pulled him back down on his lap, and with a flicker of mischief, Link writhed against him, mixing their seed and making a mess of Rhett’s dark jeans. He licked his lips and grinned. “I could lick it clean, if you want,” he whispered in Rhett’s ear, tearing a shiver through the man.

“Hell, what kinda nasty things y’all get up to in the city?” He chuckled, but before Link could fire back, Rhett was dragging him to the shower, kicking off his boots and working himself out of his stained clothes in the process.

 

The last thought that ran through Link’s head as he dozed off, damp and naked in the soft sheets, wrapped around Rhett’s perfect body, was one of self-loathing. 

How had he let this happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate all the enthusiasm and support for this fic. It feels good, y'all.
> 
> If you're just barely tolerating my trash writing, you should check out how much of a waste of space I am [on tumblr](http://mei-ren-yu.tumblr.com), too. <3


	6. Wild Horses

The morning sun came through the window in golden waves. Link could tell it was late, but no wonder he’d slept in. He’d been kept busy until the wee hours of the morning. With a rush, it all came back to him what happened the night before. He scrambled around in the tangled sheets for a moment to find he was alone in the room. His heart sank, and fiercely, he swore to himself that it was better that way. 

Rhett must have figured out he was only using him for sex, and of _course_ he’d gotten out fast. Link couldn’t blame him. Link had only been looking for a one night stand, and that was that. Bitterly, he pulled himself out of bed and took a scalding hot shower, testing his threshold with the sole intent of washing Rhett out of his hair.

He didn’t hear the door open. He didn’t notice the tall, lean cowboy dressed in fresh blue jeans and grey flannel leaning against the bathroom doorway, watching him with soft, warm eyes and the gentlest smile curling the edges of his beard. Rhett grabbed a fluffy towel and held it aloft as Link shut off the water and stepped out of the stall.

“Jesus Christ!” Link gasped, clutching his heart when he realized Rhett was there. As soon as the panic fled his body, his heart went traitorously soaring to see Rhett standing there so near again. Immediately, he quashed the thought. “Warn someone next time!” He barked, but Rhett just grinned, wrapping Link in a towel and pulling him in for a kiss. Link wanted to fight it, but his body betrayed him. Rhett smelled so good, and he was so warm.

“Next time, I will,” Rhett agreed. “Hurry up, get dressed! I want to take you somewhere for brunch.”

“ _Brunch_?” Link scoffed, an eyebrow raised. Rhett frowned and rolled his eyes comically.

“Yeah, _brunch_ ,” he groused. “People eat brunch outside of New York, you know.” Link just laughed, feeling light and lovely, and he dressed quickly. As he sat on the bed tying on his Chucks, he looked over at Rhett.

“You ripped my underwear in half, you jerk,” he accused. Rhett’s eyes grew devilishly wild, and Link suddenly felt warm despite the cool of the room.

“We’ll credit you on your invoice,” he said dismissively. Link thought Rhett was just asking for a spanking. The thought send a frisson of interest through him, and he catalogued the idea away for later perusal.

 

Rhett settled them down on a large black, cream, and turquoise horse blanket beneath a tree growing from the riverbed. The water was only a few feet deep, but it was clear, and Rhett informed him the river was spring fed and very cool. As they ate, they chatted about their childhoods, their first loves, Link’s divorce, their favorite albums, how Rhett had ended up in Texas, the things they both hated. Rhett’s voice was warm and sweet, and Link was thrilled to be reminded that the big man was tender and delicate and goofy when not shaking with fury at Link’s insults.

It made things harder, talking with Rhett like this. He knew he should leave. He should spend his last hour on the ranch making sure he’d packed everything, saying farewell to the other guests, trying to talk Micah into packing him a to-go meal, thanking the staff for their hospitality. Very quickly, Link realized that leaving Rhett was going to hurt like a bitch. Link could count the minutes ticking away. 

“It’s a little crazy,” Rhett said. Link looked over at him.

“What’s crazy?” He asked, feeling the hard earth beneath them, the warm breeze blowing across them as it rustled the sparse leaves of the tree that sheltered them from the white sun. Rhett didn’t answer for a while, but he finally drew a shaky breath and turned to head to look Link in the eyes. He reached over and brushed a kiss against his lips.

His voice was choked and thick when he said, “You sure you have to go?” Link’s heart stuttered in his chest. He looked away from Rhett and sat up, turning towards the river.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “We’re in the middle of a big project at work, and if I’m not there-”

“I understand,” Rhett cut him off, voice now stony and eyes guarded.

“Look,” Link began defensively, “This was only supposed to be a weekend thing! I mean, I have responsibilities and-” Rhett got onto his knees and started packing up their picnic basket.

“No, I know,” Rhett agreed, not looking at Link. “You have to go back to real life eventually. Can’t stay on vacation forever.” Link got up off the blanket so that Rhett could shake the dust out and fold it up. He picked up the basket and started walking away.

“Rhett!” Link called after him.

“You’d best get on to the big house and pack,” he called behind him. “You can’t miss your plane.”

“Rhett, slow down!” Link called, jogging after him. The cowboy stopped and turned around to look at Link, but the expression in his eyes was stormy and fierce. As Link drew up to him, he found himself quite at a loss for words.

Rhett asked evenly, “Is there anything else I can help you with before you go?” Link’s heart went into an ugly twist. He reached a hand out to Rhett’s, and the man looked away from Link at the touch.

“Can you kiss me goodbye?” Link asked in a small, scared way, sure that Rhett was going to say no. Rhett heaved a terrible sigh as he took Link’s face in one hand and pressed a tender, chaste kiss to Link’s lips. As he pulled away, Link bit back tears and murmured, “Thank you.”

Rhett turned to go, but then he paused with his back to Link and asked hesitantly, “Can you do me a favor, too?”

“Anything,” Link immediately answered. Rhett looked back at him over his shoulder, eyes hollow.

“Just… Come back and see me sometime, ya hear?” He rasped, and before Link could answer, he was already striding away. 

 

The airport wasn’t terribly busy, but Link found the hustle and bustle worrying on his already frayed nerves. He kept seeing and hearing phantoms of Rhett everywhere he turned, having half convinced himself that the arrogant, infuriating, utterly lovely man would come running after him with an arm full of roses and declarations of love on his tongue. But that was silly. He’d not even known the man for 48 hours, and they certainly weren’t lovesick teenage girls.

He felt sick. He wanted to cry and tell everyone in the entire airport about the way Rhett’s beard curled when he smiled. He didn’t think he’d ever eat again. He wanted to write the asshole a thousand love songs and make sculptures in his likeness. 

What the hell was wrong with him? Surely, he was going absolutely insane, but then he guessed that was what he deserved after all. Just maybe, this was him finally paying full penitence for what he’d done to his ex-wife. He guessed that he was now a free man.

A bland female voice sounded over the PA to announce his flight was boarding. He glanced back towards the entrance of the terminal for the thousandth time, but of course, there was no cowboy standing there with flowers in his arms and love in his eyes.

Link didn’t deserve that, and he knew he had no right to expect it.

 

Link hated Saturday mornings most of all. 

He breathed in slowly as he stood in the middle of his kitchen, rolling his head from side to side to crack his neck. The morning light streamed in so bright and so cheerful from the window above the sink, and he squinted in the glare, cursing his body for insisting he should be awake at this hour. What he wouldn’t give to just be able to sleep in late.

He’d never quite gotten the hang of Saturday mornings.

But he was up, and with a sigh, he set about starting a load of laundry now that the coffee pot had begun to percolate. The machine thrummed to life in a way he’d still be needing a heavy dose of caffeine to mimic. He meandered into the living room and slipped an old Merle record onto the turntable, loud enough to blare through the whole house, which was fine, because it didn’t matter much how loud the record played. The house was empty and the nearest neighbor was a mile and a half down the road. Link was all alone.

He hated the feeling of being so incomplete and at loose ends. It was embarrassing. It made him look needy. He busied himself with an article he’d left half-finished the night before, the accusatory cursor blinking at him from the word document. He didn’t regret the job change, not really. IBM had been good to him, but when he’d absconded to the cabin in the woods like this, they’d been less than thrilled with his proposal to work remotely.

Had he not had damn good reason to get away from the horrible rush and noise of the city, he’d probably be doing his old boss’ job at this point. He shuddered to think. He glanced at the article he’d stalled on and dragged his brain into gear, because if he didn’t send it off to his editor post haste, Gil would probably tear him a new one. He poured himself a cup of coffee before planting himself firmly in front of his laptop.

He didn’t know how much time he’d been working, stretched out on the sofa, laptop on his belly as he typed, but in the din of the record and his surgical focus, he missed the sound of approaching tires on the dirt road leading up to the house.

The back door creaked open slowly, and the sound of tired, light footfall delicately approached until a young girl with uneven pigtails and muddy knees appeared in the archway of the living room, hovering silently at the edge of the room. Link looked up from his work quizzically. “There you are,” he said with a smile as he sat up and snapped his laptop shut. “Where’s your dad?”

She gestured towards the back door with her head, and said, “He’s coming.”

Link patted the bit of sofa next to him and asked the girl as she sat, “How was soccer practice, Little Bit?”

“I hate it,” she pouted. “Jenny said I’m not good, and then- and then- and then she told Sharon not to talk to me.” Link pulled the girl against his side in a loose hug. She clung to him, burying her face into his chest.

“Jenny’s just jealous, Amanda,” Link sat, smoothing her hair. “You’re the first person on the team to turn seven, so… That’s a big deal.” Amanda wasn’t convinced. “Plus, you’re faster than her. At least, your dad always says so.” Amanda looked away, visibly dying to say something. “What?”

“Can you _please_ tell Dad to stop yellin’ at the coach?” She begged, her cheeks pink and her big, blue eyes wide and rimmed with crocodile tears. No sooner had she asked than a tall man appeared in the archway, dropping a black Nike duffel bag onto the floor.

“I wouldn’t have to yell if he weren’t blind,” the man griped.

“Dad, blind people can hear!” She insisted. Rhett just grumbled curse words under his breath as he leaned down to kiss Link on the lips, his beard brushing familiar thrills through his husband.

“ _Temper_ , Rhett, my _darling_ ,” Link said indulgently. Rhett was unimpressed with the admonishment, but he just scooped their daughter up in his long, strong arms and hugged her tight, ignoring her squeals and giggles as he blew raspberries on her belly. Link’s heart swelled, and he thought for the millionth time that no one in the world was luckier than him.

He got up to make another cup of coffee. It would be lunchtime soon, so he pulled out leftovers and started making meatloaf sandwiches. He didn’t know how long Rhett had been standing in the doorway, but when he looked up and found him leaning against the jamb watching Link with the softest of eyes, his heart flipped in his rib cage.

For a moment, he felt the same as the first time they’d made love. Rhett was still that tall, strong cowboy in the Texas wilderness in most ways. Sure, now he’d filled out a bit, gotten a little soft in the belly and cheeks, and he’d been persuaded to dress more like a hipster, but Link preferred him this way, and he’d wear under oath that Rhett had never looked better to him than at that very moment.

“I’s thinkin’ ‘bout takin’ Mandy out for a ride after lunch,” he said. “Wanna come with us?” Link smiled broadly as the microwave dinged.

“I know Jessie could use the exercise,” he answered. Rhett didn’t speak for a while, just watching Link arms moving and eyes flashing as he chased after new thoughts.

“You’re smilin’ to yourself,” he said eventually, coming up behind Link to wrap his arms around his husband while he made their lunch. He kissed Link’s ear.

“Just thinking about when we met,” Link said with a chuckle. “You remember the airport?” Rhett laughed, pulling away from Link to start setting the table in the breakfast nook.

“C’mon, _city boy_ ,” Rhett said warmly as a grin took over his entire face, “that was almost ten years ago.” Link flushed hot, because Rhett hadn’t called him _that_ in a while and not outside of the bedroom in even longer. 

“You came running like you were being chased by wolves,” Link fondly recalled.

“You still owe me the $275 I had to spend on a ticket so they’d let me into the terminal,” he grumbled. 

“Oh, honey,” Link purred, “I think I’ve _more_ than paid you back for that.” The two looked at each other hotly until the bluff was up and they both laughed. Rhett leaned against the table and watched Link work. A flash of blue eyes, so like their daughter’s, preceded Link’s soft question.

“What if you hadn’t come to stop me? Or what if you’d got there even a minute later?” He nearly whispered. “What if I’d hopped on that plane, and never looked back, and we’d never seen each other ever again?” Rhett’s expression fell. He walked over to his husband and pulled his glasses off, setting them on the countertop as he pressed a kiss to each eyelid.

“What’s all this sadness?” He asked with a tight throat. Link chewed his lips, not able to look up into his husband’s kind eyes.

“General anxiety,” he said, his chest tight. “You know how my morbid brain works.” Rhett pulled him in tighter, pressing his lips to Link’s temple.

“If I’d missed you at the airport, I’d’ve caught the next plane, and I would’ve knocked on every single door in North Carolina lookin' for you, and I wouldn’t’ve stopped 'til you were in my arms again.” 

Link overflowed with love and safety and belonging.

He looked around at the home they had built together, the drawings stuck to the fridge, Amanda’s height throughout the years marked on the pantry door, the patched-over hole in the wall from the one time he’d lost his temper, the pictures nearly covering the hallway walls, the beautiful man standing in front of him.

“So, you’d never walk away from this?” Link asked with a watery smile, already knowing the answer deep in his heart. Rhett leaned down to kiss him tenderly, pouring his very soul into the man he loved so deeply.

“Link, you and Mandy are the only thing that makes my life mean anything,” Rhett promised. “Maybe I’m crazy, but I… I sometimes think there must be another universe… one where I spent my whole life lovin’ you.” Link choked back a sobbed _aww_ as he kissed the big romantic softie in front of him.

“So, you think you’ll stick around awhile?” Link teased, holding back his happy tears. Rhett laughed and gazed down at him with wonder and light and need.

“Baby,” he said, “wild horses couldn’t drag me away.”

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this has been a rush to write. One last time, I want to thank all of you guys for being so awesome and supportive of this story. I'm a horrible swamp witch, and your kindness breathes life into my wretched, miserable existence.
> 
> Just one more time, I want to dedicate this story to [linkslipssinkships](Http://linkslipssinkships.tumblr.com/). What a sweet, perfect angelic babe.
> 
> Anyway, come yell at me about how I ruined your life on [my tumblr](http://mei-ren-yu.tumblr.com/).


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